#loki laufeyson x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

violetflowerswrites · 9 months ago

Text

Sweet Relief

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: servant/master, possession, religious-ish themes, dom/sub, sex pollen, cockwarming, oral (female receiving), pain/discipline, fingering, p in v sex, language, 18+

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: I’m rewatching the Marvel movies in order and my god. I forgot how absolutely diabolical and adorable young Loki is! I was inspired to make this VERY smutty, all-porn-no-plot fic. Takes place before the events of Thor 1. Hope you enjoy my first Loki fic!

Tags: @foxherder @lovingchoices14

The long linen fabric of your healer’s tunic brushed against the cold marble floor as you rushed past. Your steps were gentle and quick, trying to make next to no sound as you swept past the tall columns, and arched ceilings of the royal halls. Finally outside the gilded wood of the giant doors to his bed chambers, your breath seemed to stall in your lungs.

This simply was not done. You were approached, never doing the approaching yourself. Improper didn’t even begin to describe what you were doing.

Your gentle knock was virtually silent the first time, so you steeled yourself and tried again.

“Identify yourself.”

A lazy voice called from within, but his tone was laced with an undeniable authority.

You spoke your name, placed your title in front of it.

Healer.

You weren’t a lady, a warrior—hell, you weren’t even nobility.

You belonged to a class of healers in Asgardian society. Seen as a type of servant, but respected nonetheless. To serve in the court meant you had a sizable talent for basic magic, and for spiritual healing.

But, if you were a woman in this position, it also meant you were a glorified prostitute.

You and your healer sisters before you have served in the healing room for centuries, servicing warriors, tending to their injuries after battle. But Asgard has long been in a season of peace, so the healers needed to fill another role.

Asgard was now a land of paradise, a land of plenty. That is, plenty of food, drink, beauty, wealth, and of course, plenty of sex. The nobility needed a way to make this discreet. After all, the royal court could hardly be seen having frivolous dalliances with just anyone. They needed to marry for alliance, for power, and for proper bloodlines, of course.

That’s where the healers came in. Come to the healing room for a sleeping draught, or an ointment for a sore shoulder, and get a service on top of it. You and your sisters were carefully trained in the ways of pleasure, and secrecy.

But, here you were, in front of your Lord’s chambers, breaking every rule and propriety ingrained in you since you first worked in the court as a young girl.

“Enter.” He commanded.

With shaky hands, you pushed the heavy bedroom doors open with your slender muscles.

The sight was grand, and a bit unexpected. Thick, dark green drapes covered the walls from ceiling to floor, and deep cherry wood bookshelves lined an entire side of the bedroom. A fireplace and candles were lit, making the chambers seem warm, yet a tinge ominous. A sharp contrast to the golden pearly halls of the rest of Asgard’s royal chambers.

Loki sat at a massive wooden desk, cleaved from the center of an oak tree, and absolutely littered with a number of bottles and vials, books and scrolls. A lone curtain was left half open, letting in what little light was left of the setting summer sun.

He addressed you disinterestedly, not even bothering to lift his head up from his book.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Healer?” Loki called out quietly across the vast room.

Your back was pressed up against the door, unable to get your feet to move. Your body disobeyed what your mind wanted, forgetting to curtsey or even duck your head. Instead, your mouth opened, but no words came out.

Loki took a beat in your silence and chuckled lowly to himself.

“I must say, this is quite unexpected, and against the rules I might add.”

Amusement glittered in his eyes at the mention of breaking the rules.

After all, he was the God of Mischief. Breaking the rules was his bread and butter.

Loki finally gazed up and took you in more carefully, wondering why a healer such as yourself would dare incur the wrath of your order by entering a nobleman’s chambers without permission, let alone the prince of Asgard.

Second prince of Asgard, but a prince nonetheless.

Then he noticed you, really noticed you.

He took in your flushed face, the way you absentmindedly kept rubbing your hands up and down your arms as you hugged yourself, and your thighs pressing your legs together to seek any sort of relief you could.

Even from across the room, Loki’s god-eyes could see the steady thrumming of the vein on your neck, moving rapidly with your heartbeat. He wanted to taste your skin and feel your pulse under his hot tongue.

Loki was a keen observer. Knowing how to read body language, facial expressions, and tone of voice was more important than any magical mischief he could get up to. Reading people was enough to get him most things that he wanted in life.

And right now, he decided he wanted you.

“You may approach, Healer.”

As if the spell had been broken, you swallowed to wet your dry throat and stepped towards the prince.

“How did you get past the guards?” Loki questioned.

“I said you needed a sleeping draught. You’ve been having trouble falling asleep for the past few days.” Your voice came out squeaky and feeble, a far cry from your usual tone.

Loki pursed his lips. This was not untrue.

“Leave it here.” He gestured casually to the desk and went back to his reading, while keeping half an eye on you.

Your trembling hands set down the small bottle of liquid with a bit of a clatter, and you quickly stepped back, just a few feet from where Loki sat.

“There’s something else.” Loki murmured lowly, eyes still flicking over the pages.

“Yes.” You breathed out.

Before you could begin to state your wild request, Loki said something else that you didn’t expect.

“I know you.”

You flitted your eyes up at his handsome face, and was startled by his piercing blue gaze. Quickly, you looked down at your feet.

The younger prince of Asgard had long since caught your eye. Every time he returned from battle you snatched the opportunity to treat him.

Rumor had it that he rarely asked for a healer's services, even when he was at the peak of adolescence. Some said he had a taste for the other sex. Others said he found his pleasure off-planet.

Whereas Thor openly indulged in excess, including women, drink, and violence, Loki was careful, calculated, and purposeful in all his actions. His mysterious, unreadable nature only served to make him more attractive to you.

“Yes, m’Lord. I have treated your injuries before, alongside other sisters.”

“You sang to me.”

You gasped, shocked that he remembered. It was a particularly gruesome battle and Loki was crushed badly in the side. You and your sisters forced him into a spell-induced sleep so that you could bind his broken bones. The Queen was distraught and ordered a round-the-clock watch to ensure he was healing well. You ended up on night watch, singing lullabies when he fought demons in his sleep.

“I did not know you heard me, m’ Lord.” You whispered, the heat inside of you coming out in waves off your hot skin.

“Speak freely. What is it that you request of me?” Loki schooled his tone to sound detached, but you could hear the curiosity in his words.

Sucking in a breath, you relayed a stuttered story of how a nobleman asked the healers to create a love potion that would increase ones libido, but it would only work against someone they were attracted to. Eventually, they would be like a dog in heat, and could only be relieved by intense pleasuring from a potential lover.

And you were the unlucky soul who got “volunteered” to take the experimental potion on a test run.

Although they tried their utmost, your sisters were unable to bring you relief and now, a few hours later, you sought after your long-time crush, Loki.

Hoping he’d do something to help relieve you of your suffering.

Although what, you didn’t dare dream of.

Ashamed, you bowed your head, looking at the marble floor and wishing a hole would open up and sink you into the dark waters below your realm.

At best, he’d let you go back to the healing room and never speak of this again. At worst, he’d have you arrested and banished for attempting such a lecherous act against a prince of Asgard.

“Sit.”

Your head jerked up, and you stared. Loki wasn’t looking at you though, he was back to his book, but his palm patted his muscular thigh.

Gods, was he asking you to sit in his lap?

You slowly brought a leg over his until your core straddled his hips. His cool body temperature immediately soothed your hot one, and you carefully brought your arms to clasp behind his neck.

Moving quickly before he changed his mind, you immediately put your training to use.

“Would my Lord like a massage?” You offered quietly.

“Yes, darling, that would be lovely.” Loki agreed nonchalantly, again, eyes still glued to his book.

Your strong fingers squeezed the tight knots on Loki’s shoulders, feeling the firm, yet lean muscles there. You pulled up his flesh, pressing deeply until the tension melted away in your hands.

Moving upwards, you combed your fingers through his jet-black hair, massaging his scalp, and temples.

The man gave no signs at all that he was affected by your touch, or by having an attractive young woman in his lap.

But then, he turned, exposing a pale neck underneath the raised leather collar of his garments. You took that as an invitation to press your lips to his smooth skin. Loki could feel your warm breath exhale in a contented sigh as your thumbs continued to knead circles, followed by soft kisses all over his neck, up his jaw, behind his ear.

Even with your face pressed to his, you almost missed what he whispered next.

“Warm my cock for me, dearest.”

An uncontrollable whimper escaped from your lips at his dirty words.

To be fully honest, you didn’t know how far Loki was going to let you take this. And the answer seemed to be…

All the way.

You pulled off your undergarments and undid the buttons of his leather trousers. His member was already half-erect, but it came to life fully as you gently rubbed him in both of your warm hands.

Your head fell onto his shoulder, and you could feel the breath catch in his chest as his cock breached your tight entrance.

Your eyes squeezed shut immediately at the contact, having not loosened your sensitive core beforehand, and Loki was large. His member wasn’t the thickest you’ve ever had, but it was slender, and long.

Slowly, carefully, you sank down, half-way at first, taking a pause to adjust, then further in until your ass rested on his lap once again.

The tip of his cock pushed up against your cervix, and you’ve never felt more full in your life.

Relaxing, you pressed your chest to his, leaning in as your core wrapped its hot, moist flesh around him. Loki for his part, was completely silent, reaching his arms behind your back to continue flipping through his book.

“What are you reading?” You murmur, content to just be filled for the time being. The initial stage of insatiable desire had been temporarily slaked by simply having his length inside of you.

“A spell-book on illusion magic. Could be useful for battle, or tricking my brother.” A soft chuckle rumbled through his body, the vibrations stimulating your center immediately.

You moaned, losing yourself in pleasure, but Loki shushed you gently.

“Be a good girl and sit quietly. I want to finish this section.”

So you did. After having spent the past few hours in heat, having any kind of relief now was enough to lull you into a daze. The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire, the crinkle of pages of Loki’s book, and your quiet breath.

Every so often, he would shift his weight and it would push his cock in a different part of your core. You bit your lip each time to keep from making any noise, but the wetness that leaked from your pussy betrayed your arousal. You were sure that Loki’s thighs would be soaked by the time he finished reading.

Abruptly, Loki snapped his book shut with a bang. You flinched automatically at the loud sound.

“That’s enough, my dear.” He stated with finality.

You gingerly pulled yourself off, his still-hard member slipping out of your core, leaving you feeling empty and wanting. Legs wobbly from sitting straddled wide for so long, you tried your best to look put together, smoothing down your tunic, and taking a tentative step back.

“My Lord, thank you for—“ you attempted a statement of propriety, assuming that you were being dismissed.

Wordlessly, Loki grabbed you roughly by the neck and hauled you forward, an arm pulling your hips against his as he crushed you with a kiss.

Your body melted into his immediately, overwhelmed by the pressure of his lips against yours, his tongue forcing his way into your mouth, and —gods was that teeth?—nipping at your lower lip. You had no idea that a kiss could be so utterly demanding and violent.

Loki wasn’t just kissing you.

He was devouring you.

“It’s time for some discipline, healer. Do you know what a bad girl you’ve been tonight?” Loki growled against your neck, biting you not quite so gently there.

“No, tell me m’ Lord.” The response breathed out through bruised lips. Your pupils were blown out with lust and so were his.

“No? Then, I’ll help you count each disobedience.”

With that, Loki pulled your tunic and shift off, leaving you completely exposed before him.

“Exquisite,” he murmured, while licking his lips.

Roughly, he wrenched your arm and pulled you towards his generous bed, throwing you down the middle of the lush mattress.

Before you had a chance to sit up, he flipped you onto your stomach and smacked a hard slap to your ass.

“Fuck!” The expletive exploded out of you at the sharp sting.

“Number one: deceiving the guards.”

Another slap hit your other ass cheek.

“Number two: sneaking into the royal chambers.”

His hand met your bottom again.

“Number three: sneaking into my bedroom, a prince of Asgard no less.”

Another hit. The skin of your ass was already inflamed pink with the first few smacks.

Loki watched the color bloom before slowly raking his icy-blue eyes across your body. A sheen of sweat had broken out along your back and your face was buried in the sheets.

Loki’s never hurt a girl in the bedroom before, but seeing the redness of your ass, and feeling the tingling remnants of each slap on his own hand. Well, that awoke something sinister in his heart, and his loins.

“Number four: you were a fool to take the love potion. You are supposed to be a healer, not a witch.”

This next blow from Loki was even stronger than the last. The contact with your tender skin echoed off the high ceiling of his bedroom.

“Hells—Loki you are going to leave a mark!” The pain had you gritting your teeth, and temporarily forgetting your manners.

Hearing his name roll off your tongue made him laugh with delight. Who knew he would have so much fun punishing a troublesome little girl like you?

He leaned forward, pressing his erection into the swell of your ass, and spoke lowly into your ear.

“My darling, when I’m done with you, your body will be marked permanently.”

The threat made you shut your mouth and turn your burning face away from his, speechless.

“Number five: you were a fool to seek out me for relief.”

The final hit was the most painful. Loki lifted both of his hands and brought them down with so much force that you let out a scream of shock, pain, and pleasure all at once.

He immediately squeezed your pliant flesh in his palms, massaging the slap-warmed skin there.

After a moment of silence, he released his touch altogether and sat back on the bed, watching you.

Cautiously, you crawled up on your hands and knees and sat up, using your arms to hold up your weight rather than sitting on your tender bottom.

He studied your face in quiet contemplation as he watched a mixture of emotions course through you.

Pain, of course.

A bit of fear.

Apprehension, understandably.

But as you drew in shaky breaths, staring back at him, he saw what he was hoping for.

Attraction. Lust. Arousal. Greed.

Even after all of that, you still wanted him. Hells, even without the potion coursing through your veins you would have still wanted to fuck him.

The dominant, torturous streak was a surprise, but you never knew what Loki was capable of, to begin with.

Everything was a surprise with him.

And yet, you craved so much more.

Suddenly gentle, Loki guided you backwards until your head hit his soft pillows.

He settled in between your legs, prying them apart until his face was inches away from your puffy inner lips.

“How did that feel, my dear?” He pressed kisses against your inner thighs, loving how smooth and soft your skin was.

“It hurt.” You ground out, indignance lacing your tone, trying not to show how anything Loki did to you felt good.

Better than good. He was better than any nobleman you’ve ever had to service before. Sex with them was vanilla, predictable. Loki was anything but.

“Ah, but you liked it. Didn’t you, sweet girl?” He paused and looked up at you with those baby blues.

Underneath his steady gaze, you knew there was no point in lying. Loki could see through you in a heartbeat.

“Yes. It felt good.” You confessed.

Tutting with that silver tongue of his, endearments and praise continued to pour out of that sly mouth.

And kisses. Hot, wet, soft kisses to every part of your inner thighs, your mound, your puffy pussy lips.

“You naughty girl. Entering my chambers, asking me to give you relief.”

He pressed his lips to you.

“Sitting on my cock, letting me fill up that tight cunt of yours.”

A regal nose brushed against your slit, dragging wetness up your core.

“Enjoying pain with your pleasure. Letting me ravage your body. You’re a temptress, my sweet.”

A deep inhale. Gods, Loki was breathing in your sex right in front of you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, your nails digging into your palms.

“Did you know, darling, that I could smell you the second you entered my chambers?” He exhaled, warm air tickling the moisture leaking out of you.

You didn’t dare reply, knowing that all that could come out of you now would be whines of lust.

“You, my dear, are ripe.”

With that, Loki dove head first into your cunt, licking and sucking like you were his favorite dessert.

The potion made your pussy swollen and sensitive, so everything he did felt ten times more pleasurable than anything your sisters tried.

Your hands gripped his wide shoulders and your knees fell apart as he ate you out.

“Loki—my Lord, I, I can’t!” You stammered out, head falling back as you enjoyed his worship of your pussy.

“Cat got your tongue, dear?” Loki joked, before taking your clit in between his perfect teeth.

“Fuck!” You positively screamed, which only made Loki double down.

Finally, he let go and you slowly loosened your grip, not realizing that you had been knuckle deep in his beautiful hair, tugging it, tangling it in your fingers. You saw pink half moons littered on the pale skin of his neck and face, evidence of your nails digging into his flesh.

Taking a beat to breathe, you smoothed his locks down on his head.

“Did I hurt you?” You inquired, feeling ashamed that you had lost yourself so completely in your lust.

“Yes. But I liked it, dearest. You can hurt me as much as you want to. Just as long as I can do the same.”

The dirty confession made your heart stutter in your chest, eyes wide. Seeing your expression, Loki laughed aloud, the sound blessing your ears.

He crawled up your body now, straightening your legs.

“Let’s see how ready you are for me, hmm?” Loki inserted one finger, then another into your pussy.

“Gods! That feels—!” You whined.

“Good, isn't it?” Loki finished for you. “Now, what about…here?”

He curled his digits upwards and put delicious pressure onto your spongy inner center.

Waves of stimulation shot through your limbs as your voice cried out in broken moans.

“Your knees are trembling, sweet girl.” Loki observed with amusement.

Indeed they were, and they continued to shake uncontrollably as Loki clamped down even harder, his fingers thrusting now.

“I-I can’t help it!” You cried out again, as Loki kissed your breasts, his hot mouth finding purchase on an erect nipple.

Your hands gripped his wrist and he couldn’t tell if you were trying to pull his hand out, or push it in deeper.

Regardless, he ground his palm against your clit, scissoring his digits inside of you, stretching you.

Preparing you.

“Oh my—I’m gonna cum!” You screamed out. Loki had already made you cum a few times. First, when his cock filled you up as you were sitting on his lap. Second, when he bit down on your clit.

And now, with his skilled fingers, he was making your pussy spasm and weep under his touch.

The orgasm was powerful, your whole body jerking up against his. With his free hand, Loki held you down, enjoying the wild ride.

Finally, as you relaxed, Loki released you and sat back. His forehead dappled with sweat, and his own breath coming in hard.

You couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. Loki, your prince, was pleasuring, no—worshiping your body like it was his personal gift from Valhalla. He made you feel pleasure at heights you didn’t know existed. Somehow, he simply knew your body even though this was the first time he had ever touched you.

Lost in post-orgasm bliss, your eyes lazily traveled down to his still clothed erection, fighting to get out of his trousers. A thought crossed your mind.

“My Lord, can I undress you?” You murmured, locking eyes with him.

Loki didn’t reply, instead, he simply watched your naked body approach his clothed one as you slowly snaked your hands up his torso. You found each flap, each button, and slowly undid it all as his garments fell down in pieces on the bed.

You pulled his pants off his long legs, and his cock bounced up to greet you. With a gasp of joy, you pressed a soft kiss to his member and continued your kisses up the toned flesh of his chest until you got to his lips.

The action was intimate, like what lovers would do. And Loki let you touch him, admire him, without a word.

In the last bit of light of sunset, Loki’s skin glowed golden orange. He shone like the god he is.

“Beautiful.” You whispered in awe.

An arrogant smile curved along his face and he cradled a hand along the back of your head. He pressed a long, sensual kiss to your warm mouth.

“I’m going to fuck you now.” He murmured the dirty words against your smiling lips.

Stalking over you like a predator hunts its prey, Loki climbed over your prone body, lining up his engorged cock with your weeping slit.

He watched you watch him as he slid in, inch by inch, your eyes watering as he forced his way into your cunt.

A self-satisfied smirk emerged on his face, knowing just how full he could make you feel.

Gently, he lowered his weight on top of you, pressing down so that his toned flesh covered your supple breasts and soft curves.

As he started to slowly thrust in and out of your tight core, Loki found both of your hands and brought them next to your head, interlacing his fingers with yours. Your palms were hot and sweaty, overwhelmed with the intimacy of his actions.

Summoning all the boldness you had inside of you, you dared your gaze to meet his and he was staring back at you with a mixture of lust and affection.

And also, possession.

Fuck.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Without warning, he pushed faster, his hips smacking into yours with a vengeance. You instinctively brought your knees up to allow him deeper access. The wet slap of his cock into your pussy was sinfully loud in the cavernous bedroom.

All manner of helpless yelps and whines came out of your throat, your hands squeezed his as he fucked you raw.

“You need to be fucked, hard and often, healer.” The way he said your title could have been synonymous with whore.

The intensity of his look was almost too much, daring you to look away, but you found that you couldn’t. You were entirely addicted to this man, stronger than any drug you could have created in the healing room.

By Odin, he was the only one for you.

You pressed your forehead to his as he continued to slam his cock deep inside of your womb.

“I’m yours, my Lord.” The words tumbled out of you before you could stop them.

“Loki.” An unreadable expression crossed his face as Loki pushed himself up. He pulled your legs to wrap around his hips as he knelt on the bed. Your pussy was still clenched around his cock and you took the opportunity to suck in a few deep breaths.

“Wha-what?” You panted, confusion furrowing your brow.

“Say my name. Say that you belong to me.” Loki commanded. He rose up, pulling his shoulders back, looking every bit like the prince, the god that he is. His dark hair was pushed back on his forehead, sleek with sweat, framing his sharp features like a crown.

Automatically obedient, the declaration left your lips with sincerity and conviction.

“I belong to you, Loki.”

With a laugh of triumph, Loki grabbed the pliant flesh of your hips and slammed your body against his own. He railed your core with his cock, hitting deeper than you ever thought possible. Your ass slid along his strong thighs, the friction smarting your skin that was still tender from his earlier disciplining.

“Loki—it’s too much!” You cried out, losing yourself in pleasure.

“Cum for me, my sweet girl. Worship me with your cunt!” Loki growled out, thrusting impossibly harder, impossibly faster.

The sensation built and built, his name spilled out of your mouth in an endless stream of moans, until suddenly the pleasure peaked.

In that instance, time stopped. Your lips parted in a silent scream, and you saw him.

Veins bulged in his forearm as he pulled you flush against his hips. Nose scrunched up in effort as he fucked you deeply. His eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, wild in the throes of ecstasy.

Loki was your god.

And he was glorious.

Finally the air in your lungs released in a long-awaited scream and the orgasm crashed down. Nerve endings lit on fire, and your muscles jerked and spasmed underneath his strong grip. In the midst of your pleasure, you heard a faraway groan from your prince, and you could feel jets of hot cum coat the inside of your womb. He was marking you, claiming you as his.

You knew you would be his forever.

A few seconds later, Loki unceremoniously pulled out of your well-used pussy, and collapsed beside you, chest heaving with exertion.

Lying with one arm underneath his head, he lazily stroked your back as you curled up on his naked chest. Finally, the effect from the love potion had dissipated, leaving you with sweet relief.

Minutes passed in comfortable silence, but your mind started to swirl with insecure thoughts. You steeled your nerves to ask a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind.

“Why did you never use me?”

“What do you mean, my dear?”

“Why did you never take a lover? Or ask for a healer’s services? I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, that you’re—“ Your mouth shut with an audible clack of your teeth.

Your clumsy tongue always got ahead of yourself. Worried you may have crossed a line, your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

But Loki answered honestly.

“You’re not my first. But I have long since known that I can’t fuck and forget like my ape of a brother.” He grimaces, and breathes in deeply before saying more.

“When I have sex, I need to own them. Possess them. I'm sure you noticed my dominant streak, my darling.”

“Then why’d you let me come in tonight? Why take the risk?” You wondered aloud.

“I’ve been watching you, my sweet little healer.”

You tensed automatically in surprise. Since when? What did he see? Why did he notice you?

Loki’s gentle voice brought you out of your thoughts as he confessed more.

“If you hadn’t approached me tonight, I would have snatched you from the healing room and made you mine before long.” He chuckled, the sound vibrating deep within his chest as you lay on his skin.

The revelation sank in slowly until finally, Loki pulled you up until your face was level with his.

“You just beat me to it, you naughty girl.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, and your furrowed brow automatically relaxed.

“Tell me again. Will you belong to me, and only me?” He searched your eyes for any hint of deception, any trace of a lie.

You were certain that he would find none.

“Yes, Loki. I belong to you.”

…

#marvel #loki #loki laufeyson #Loki x reader #Loki laufeyson x reader #Thor #Thor 1 #Loki fic #Loki smut #Loki fanfic #marvel fic #marvel smut

2K notes · View notes

urdreamydoodles · 2 months ago

Text

MARVEL COMICS CHARACTERS x FEM!READER

Marvel Comics Characters Receiving a Dirty Picture from You in Public

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor, Loki, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Matthew Murdock, Frank Castle, Marc Spector, Johnny Storm, Reed Richards, Felicia Hardy, Stephen Strange, Namor, Johnny Blaze, Eddie Brock / Venom, T'Challa & Elektra Natchios

God, I love Marvel Comics...

Peter Parker aka. Spider-Man

Peter has been through a lot. He’s fought villains, lost people he’s loved, and carried the weight of responsibility since he was a kid. But nothing—not Venom, not Doctor Octopus, not the Green Goblin—has ever hit him as hard as opening his phone and seeing you.

He’s perched upside-down on a fire escape, mid-stakeout with Daredevil, when his phone buzzes. He barely glances at it at first, assuming it’s an update from MJ or the Bugle. But then—his Spidey-Sense misfires. His stomach drops. And suddenly, he’s scrambling so fast that he almost falls off the fire escape.

“...Parker?” Matt’s voice is suspicious, brow furrowing beneath the red mask. Peter clutches his phone like a lifeline, heat rushing to his face, his entire body going rigid. “Uh—nope! Nothing’s wrong! Totally fine! Just, uh—gotta—go!” Before Matt can say another word, Peter web-slings away, heart pounding.

Later, in his apartment, he stares at the image, biting his lip so hard he might draw blood. Then, fumbling with his phone, he types back: You cannot just drop this on me in the middle of a mission. I almost DIED. You’re gonna make it up to me. In person. Immediately.

Tony Stark aka. Iron Man

Tony Stark is always the one making people flustered. He’s the king of inappropriate timing, the grandmaster of chaos. So when you flip the game on him? When you send him something completely indecent while he’s in the middle of a live press conference? Oh, he is in trouble.

He’s mid-sentence, standing in front of a sea of reporters, when his phone vibrates. He glances at it without thinking, because hey, it might be about stock prices or another alien invasion. But no. No, it’s you. In the filthiest pose imaginable.

He visibly freezes. Blinks. Blanches. Then—his brain blue screens. The entire room stares as Tony suddenly cuts off mid-sentence, clears his throat, and forces a smirk that’s absolutely not covering up a crisis. “Uh—ladies and gentlemen, I think that’s enough questions for today.”

The moment he’s offstage, he stumbles into the nearest private room, yanks at his tie, and pulls out his phone like it holds the meaning of life. He types back immediately: Oh, now you’ve done it, sweetheart. I hope you’re home right now, because I’m on my way, and I’m bringing consequences.

Steve Rogers aka. Captain America

Steve is not a prude. He’s been around, he’s seen things. But there’s something about you—about the way you know exactly how to knock the breath from his lungs—that makes him feel like a kid again.

He’s in the middle of a strategy meeting with Sam and Bucky, his shield leaning against the table, when his phone vibrates. He checks it without thinking, eyes flicking down—and then every muscle in his body tenses. His grip on the phone tightens. His ears burn red.

“You good, Rogers?” Bucky gives him a knowing smirk, because he immediately recognizes that look—Steve flustered beyond belief. Steve clears his throat, hard, locking his phone like it’s offended him. “Fine,” he says, voice a little too even. “Let’s, uh—let’s keep going.”

But later, when he’s alone, he exhales deeply, pressing a hand over his face before looking at the image again. Then, with slow deliberation, he types: I hope you know what you just started. Because I don’t break my promises, sweetheart. And I promise—you’re not leaving that bed when I get there.

Thor Odinson aka. God of Thunder

Thor has seen battles, has waged wars across the cosmos, has faced monsters and gods. But when his phone pings—when he sees the absolute sin that you’ve just sent him—he forgets how to breathe.

He is in the middle of the Avengers’ common room, laughing boisterously with Bruce and Natasha, when he pulls out his phone. He expects something simple—a text from his brother, perhaps, or a message from Jane. But instead? Instead, he sees you.

The entire room feels it when Thor’s laughter stops. There is a moment—just a beat of silence—before the lights flicker. The air crackles with static electricity. His fingers twitch around the phone, and then, in a low, very serious voice, he mutters, “By the Norns…”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, but Thor abruptly stands, clearing his throat. “I must depart. Urgently.” Bruce frowns. “What? Why?” Thor barely offers an explanation before storming out of the room, typing furiously: You dare tempt the God of Thunder? Very well, little one. You shall learn what it means to summon a storm.

Loki Laufeyson aka. God of Mischief

Loki is the undisputed master of control. He is calm, composed, always one step ahead of everyone else. But when you send him something so shameless, so brazen, in the middle of an important diplomatic event in Asgard—he nearly drops his goblet of wine.

He’s reclining on his throne, listening to some dull ambassador drone on about trade negotiations, when his phone vibrates. He lifts it lazily, expecting nothing of importance—until he sees you.

His entire body goes rigid. His grip tightens around the goblet, the silver denting beneath his fingers. His green eyes darken, and for the first time in centuries, he feels his pulse stutter. The ambassador keeps talking, oblivious, but Loki? Loki is seething.

Later, in his chambers, he lounges on his bed, turning the phone over in his fingers before smirking. Then, with slow, careful precision, he types: You dare tease the God of Mischief? Oh, darling, you are in such trouble. And you know how much I enjoy trouble.

Clint Barton aka. Hawkeye

Clint Barton is used to chaos. He’s fought alien invasions, taken down crime syndicates, and, most impressively, lived in a house with three dogs and somehow survived. But nothing—not the Avengers, not S.H.I.E.L.D., not even Kate Bishop’s endless sarcasm—could have prepared him for this.

He’s in the middle of a debriefing with Captain America and Black Widow when his phone vibrates. Normally, he’d ignore it, but boredom gets the better of him. He sneaks a glance, tilting the screen just slightly—and immediately chokes on his coffee.

“Barton?” Natasha’s voice is sharp, her suspicious gaze snapping to him. Steve looks concerned. Clint, on the other hand, is malfunctioning. He quickly locks his phone, pressing it to his thigh like it’s burning him. “Yep. All good. Just… wrong text thread. You know how it is.”

The second he’s alone, he whistles, rubbing a hand down his face before sending a text: You are absolutely trying to kill me, aren’t you? I’m a trained marksman, babe. You know I always hit my target. Hope you’re ready.

Natasha Romanoff aka. Black Widow

Natasha Romanoff is a professional. She’s endured psychological conditioning, trained with the deadliest assassins in the world, and can lie so well that even she forgets what’s real. But when you send her something so utterly filthy, in the middle of a high-stakes poker game with some very dangerous people—she nearly loses her composure.

She’s holding a perfect poker face, one leg crossed over the other, a cigarette between her fingers (purely for effect). Then, her phone buzzes. She never checks her phone during missions, but for some reason, she does this time.

The second she sees the image, her fingers twitch. She almost fumbles her cigarette. Almost. A single slow breath is all that betrays her before she locks the screen and smirks, adjusting her sunglasses to hide the flicker of heat in her gaze.

Later, after she’s won the game (because of course she has), she finally responds: You must be very confident, sending me something like that. I hope you know what happens when I catch my prey, моя любовь (my love). Because I always catch them.

Bucky Barnes aka. Winter Soldier

Bucky is already always on edge. He spent decades being controlled, his mind fractured, his instincts constantly telling him that danger lurks around every corner. But when his phone vibrates in the middle of a mission briefing and he makes the mistake of checking it—he nearly self-destructs.

He’s sitting next to Sam Wilson, arms crossed, trying to focus on the tactical discussion. Then, out of habit, he glances at his phone. And suddenly? His enhanced heartbeat spikes. His grip on the phone tightens, metal fingers creaking.

Sam immediately notices. “Dude. You okay?” Bucky doesn’t answer. He just exhales deeply, jaw clenching, and locks his phone like it’s personally offended him. “Fine,” he mutters, but the way his throat bobs betrays him.

Later, in the privacy of his room, he leans against the wall, pressing his flesh hand over his face before looking at the image again. Then, he types—slow, deliberate, full of promise: You are playing with fire, doll. And you know I don’t burn alone.

Matthew Murdock aka. Daredevil

Matt has learned to control himself. He has to, considering his senses pick up everything. The heartbeat of a liar, the scent of blood, the whisper of fabric against skin. But when he puts in his earpiece during a stakeout with Elektra and hears you—sultry, teasing, wicked—his composure shatters.

Your voice is a purr, warm and full of amusement, as you describe, in explicit detail, exactly what you want to do to him. Every syllable slides into his ear like a sin, and for the first time in years, Matt Murdock forgets how to breathe.

“Murdock.” Elektra’s voice is unimpressed. “Are you even listening?” Matt clenches his jaw, forcing his expression into something neutral as he slowly removes the earpiece. “Yeah,” he lies, his voice way too tight. “Loud and clear.” But his fingers twitch, betraying him.

Later, alone in his apartment, he plays the message again. And again. Until his own heartbeat is thunderous in his ears. Then, with a slow smirk, he records his reply—his voice low, gravelly, barely more than a rasp: Angel, you have no idea what you’ve just done. And I promise—you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.

Frank Castle aka. The Punisher

Frank Castle does not fluster. He’s a man who’s seen the worst of the world, a soldier who has lost everything. He does not get distracted. But when he’s sitting in the middle of a grimy bar, brooding over a whiskey, and his phone vibrates—everything stops.

He checks it absently, expecting intel from Micro or maybe a warning from Daredevil. But instead, he gets you. And just like that, his grip on the glass tightens. His jaw locks. His entire body tenses, muscles coiled, because you have just sent him something so utterly indecent that he has to set his whiskey down before he crushes the glass.

The bartender notices. “You good, man?” Frank barely glances up, his fingers white-knuckled around his phone. “Fine,” he mutters, voice rough. He shoves his phone back in his pocket and downs the rest of his drink in one go.

Later, in the dead of night, he finally lets himself look at the picture again. He exhales, rubbing a hand over his face, before sending a single message: You think you’re real cute, huh? Yeah. Keep that same energy when I get home. See if you’re still smirking when I’ve got my hands on you.

Marc Spector aka. Moon Knight

Marc has lived multiple lives. A mercenary. A vigilante. A fist of vengeance. But the moment his phone vibrates in the middle of a stakeout, and he sees you—he nearly blows his own cover.

He’s perched on a rooftop, watching a weapons deal go down, his mind sharp and focused. Then, out of habit, he checks his phone. His breath hitches. His grip tightens around the device, and he has to physically restrain himself from groaning. Khonshu’s voice rumbles in his mind: "Your mortal desires are distracting, Spector." Marc grits his teeth. "Yeah, no shit."

“Something wrong?” Jake’s voice purrs from inside his head, amused. “She send you something nice, hermano?” Marc rolls his eyes, exhaling sharply before locking his phone. “Mind your damn business.” But his pulse is thundering.

Later, back at his apartment, he leans against the wall, staring at the image before typing: You have no idea what you’ve just done. Hope you’re home. Hope you’re ready.

Johnny Storm aka. Human Torch

Johnny Storm is used to attention. He thrives on it. He’s a celebrity, a hero, a walking flame. But when you send him something scandalous in the middle of a live television interview, even he isn’t ready for it.

He’s laughing, flashing his signature cocky grin at the camera, when his phone buzzes. He checks it without thinking—because hey, it might be Sue yelling at him again—but instead, it’s you. In the filthiest pose imaginable.

Johnny visibly chokes. His entire body tenses. For the first time ever, he forgets what he was saying. The interviewer blinks. “Uh… Johnny?” His brain short-circuits. His face heats—literally. The tips of his ears ignite before he clenches his fists and forces himself to not spontaneously combust on live television.

The second the interview is over, he’s sprinting to his dressing room, slamming the door shut and typing frantically: Ohhh, you are in trouble. You’re really trying to set me on fire, huh? Hope you’re home, babe, ‘cause I’m flying over. Right. Now.

Reed Richards aka. Mister Fantastic

Reed Richards is a genius. His mind is constantly working at speeds beyond human comprehension. But when he’s mid-lecture at a prestigious scientific conference and his phone vibrates—his brilliant mind suddenly goes blank.

He absently checks his phone, half-expecting an alert from the Baxter Building. But instead, it’s you. Wearing almost nothing.

For a solid ten seconds, he is frozen. His eyes slightly widen. His fingers twitch. And then, very slowly, he locks his phone and clears his throat. “Ah—excuse me, esteemed colleagues, but I must—um—attend to an urgent matter.”

Later, he adjusts his glasses, staring at the image with a fascinated, almost scientific appreciation. Then, with methodical precision, he types: You are a very distracting woman. I will be conducting an… in-depth study on you as soon as I return. Expect a thorough examination.

Felicia Hardy aka. Black Cat

Felicia Hardy is a master of seduction. She flusters men for fun. But when she’s in the middle of a high-stakes casino heist, and you send her something utterly indecent, even she loses her composure.

She’s leaning against the bar, sipping an expensive martini, eyes locked on her mark. Then, her phone buzzes. She lazily checks it, expecting an update from her crew. But instead? Instead, she sees you.

Her eyelashes flutter. Her lips part just slightly. And for the first time in years, her poker face cracks. The bartender—oblivious—raises an eyebrow. “Everything okay, miss?” Felicia exhales, smirking as she locks her phone. “Oh, it’s better than okay.”

Later, she lounges on silk sheets, staring at the picture before purring into her phone: You really think you can tease me, kitten? Oh, sweetheart… you just made a very expensive bet. And I never lose.

Stephen Strange aka. Doctor Strange

Stephen Strange is not easily shaken. He’s fought cosmic horrors, bent reality, and wielded power beyond mortal comprehension. But when he��s in the middle of a magical duel with Dormammu, and you send him a sinfully explicit picture—he almost loses.

He’s mid-incantation, floating above the Sanctum’s rooftop, when his phone vibrates. Normally, he’d ignore it—except something in the back of his mind tells him it’s you. He flicks his fingers, glancing at the screen—and immediately regrets it.

His spell stutters. His fingers twitch. The fabric of reality briefly warps. Wong, standing below, yells, “What the hell was that?!” Stephen clenches his jaw, locking his phone immediately before snapping his wrist and repairing the timeline. “Nothing,” he mutters. “Absolutely nothing.”

The moment the battle is over, he retreats into his study, loosening his Cloak, before typing: You dare distract the Sorcerer Supreme? You have no idea what you’ve just unleashed, darling. And I do hope you’re prepared for consequences beyond mortal comprehension.

Namor aka. The Sub-Mariner

Namor is a king. He does not answer to anyone. He has waged war against the surface world, stood against the mightiest heroes, and commands the loyalty of an entire empire. But when he is seated on his throne, discussing politics with his council, and his communicator vibrates—everything else becomes irrelevant.

He glances down, expecting a diplomatic missive. Instead, he is greeted by you—a vision of temptation, captured in a way that only he has the privilege to see. His grip on the communicator tightens, his lips parting slightly. The light of the display reflects in his dark, narrowed eyes.

The council drones on, but Namor hears nothing. His golden gauntlets flex, his knuckles tightening as his jaw sets. A slow, deliberate exhale is all that betrays his reaction. But those closest to him—his most trusted generals—see the flicker of something dangerous in his expression. A storm, barely contained.

Later, as he stands upon his balcony, overlooking the endless ocean, he types a single response: You seek to tempt a king, my love? Then be prepared for the wrath of a god. When next we meet, you will drown in my devotion.

Johnny Blaze aka. Ghost Rider

Johnny Blaze has seen Hell—literally. He has ridden across the desolate highways of damnation, stared into the abyss, and laughed. But when he’s sitting in a biker bar, nursing a whiskey and half-listening to some guy ramble about the Devil, his phone vibrates. And when he checks it—he nearly sets the whole place on fire.

The image of you is burned into his mind, seared into his soul. He sucks in a slow breath through his teeth, his fingers tightening around the glass. His knuckles go white. Somewhere deep inside, the Spirit of Vengeance chuckles.

“Something wrong, Blaze?” One of the other bikers eyes him warily. Johnny forces a smirk, setting his whiskey down before he crushes the glass in his grip. “Nah,” he rasps, his voice a little too rough. “Just realized I got… unfinished business to take care of.”

Later, on his Hellfire-coated bike, he sends a text: You got a real bad habit of making me wanna sin, sweetheart. And I promise—I’ll make sure you repent. Over. And over.

Eddie Brock & Venom aka. Venom

Eddie Brock has been through hell. He’s fought monsters, been one himself, lost everything, and still kept going. But nothing—not a damn thing—could prepare him for the absolute carnage of getting that picture from you in the middle of a crowded subway.

He’s scrolling through his phone absentmindedly, Venom muttering in his head about wanting tater tots, when the image loads. For a solid five seconds, he is completely still. Then—

“Eddie.” Venom’s voice rumbles, amused. “Your mate is very… bold. We approve.” Eddie, red-faced, slams his phone against his chest like that’ll somehow erase what just happened. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, eyes darting around to make sure no one saw. A teenager across from him raises an eyebrow.

Later, when he’s alone, he finally lets himself look at the picture again. A slow, predatory grin spreads across his face as he types back: Oh, you think you’re being cute, huh? Yeah. Just wait till I get my hands on you. Hell, maybe we’ll even let Venom have a little fun, too.

T’Challa aka. Black Panther

T’Challa is a king, a warrior, a legend. His mind is a fortress, his will unshakable. But when he is seated in the royal palace of Wakanda, surrounded by dignitaries, and his Kimoyo Beads alert him to a personal message—his focus wavers.

He allows himself a discreet glance. And in that moment? His heart skips a single beat. His fingers—steady even in the heat of battle—tighten just slightly around his beads. His expression does not change. But to those who know him well—Okoye, Shuri—they notice the subtlest flicker of something dangerous in his eyes.

Shuri smirks. “Brother,” she murmurs, leaning in. “You look… distracted.” T’Challa exhales deeply, locking the message with a casual flick of his fingers. “I am merely… anticipating a conversation.”

Later, when he is alone, he reviews the picture once more, fingers grazing his jaw before he types: You are testing my patience, beloved. And you know I am a man of great discipline. But for you? I am willing to break my own rules. Expect me soon.

Elektra Natchios aka. Elektra

Elektra Natchios does not fluster. She has slit the throats of kings, danced on the edge of oblivion, and played cat-and-mouse with death itself. But when she is sharpening her sai on the rooftop of a New York high-rise and her phone buzzes—her grip falters.

The blade nicks her glove. Barely. But it happens. Her lips part in a slow, dangerous smirk as she tilts the phone toward the moonlight, drinking in the absolute audacity of your message.

“Something amusing?” A voice—a rival assassin, lurking in the shadows. Elektra does not answer. She merely tucks her phone away, standing smoothly, her stance lethal. “Yes,” she purrs. “Something… very amusing.”

Later, as she leans against the window of her penthouse, she finally sends a reply: You are so very reckless, my love. And I do enjoy breaking reckless little things.

2K notes · View notes

oswildin · 5 days ago

Text

|| WHEN TIME STANDS STILL [LOKI X READER]

BLURB: When Loki is plucked from his life on the sacred timeline and thrust into the bureaucratic realm of the TVA, he didn't expect this... A one of a kind individual who appears to defy the laws of time, dying only to reappear in another timeline as if nothing had ever happened... With memories of all the times they've lived before. They're an anomaly the TVA can't contain, a ghost in the sacred timeline with secrets buried deep from their countless lives. Well, it's a mystery that the God of Mischief just couldn't resist unravelling... But as he delves deeper into their secrets, he discovers something far more dangerous... Can the infamous trickster truly change?Where will his loyalties lie? Can he trust another complex soul? And can time ever truly stand still for anyone? (TAGS: Eventual romance, reader insert, slight enemies to lovers, angst and comfort, Loki (2020 & 2023), sci-fi, mystery.)

CHAPTER SONG: Changes - David Bowie

WORD COUNT: 8.1K // PAIRING: Loki x GN!Reader //RATING: PG

MASTERPOST

A/N: Chapter One & some of Chapter Two are from the Audience/TVA/Loki’s POV, so are written in third person, using (Y/N). However, it will also be heavily written in second person in the fic, using ‘you’ throughout, especially when we are in the readers POV.

CHAPTER I: “TIME MAY CHANGE ME.”

CALIFORNIA, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, EARTH, 1972, UNIVERSE-427

“Very superstitious writings on the wall, Very superstitious, ladders 'bout to fall…”

The low hum of a time door sounded through the record store, a rectangular glowing orange portal opening out of thin air as the customers gasped, panicking, quickly rushing away from it. The sound of the crackling speakers was drowned by footsteps, Stevie Wonder’s voice fighting against the commotion.

“Ah, right on time.”

A figure slowly turned, smirking as they held David Bowie’s ‘Changes’ 7 inch record, their eyes meeting a group they had met many times before. The lead hunter on the mission stepped forwards, timestick at the ready as he began to recite the usual dogma. “You are in violation of the sacred timeline, code-“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah-“ The figure sighed, cutting him off as they stepped closer, making the lead hunter, D-11 as it said on his helmet, look warily. “Reset me, baby.” The minutemen paused, exchanging baffled looks, as the figure simply raised a brow, looking between them all expectantly.

SAKAAR, TAYO STAR SYSTEM, DEEP SPACE, 3024, UNIVERSE-2062

“Ladies, Gentlemen and Inbetweens, The Grandmaster!”

Cheers erupted as the extravagantly dressed ruler stood on his podium, a hologram projected of him in the air above the people, allowing everyone to see his hardly aged face. He waved to the masses, basking in the adoration of his people.

“That’s it…” A figure dressed in brightly coloured Sakaarian garb muttered to themselves. “Bask in it now old man. Revolution number god knows how many is on its way soon enough.” They huffed, earning a glance from the blue alien stood beside them.

“There!” A voice suddenly came from nearby, causing the figure to whip round to see a familiar sight… They smirked faintly, turning on their heel to head towards them.

“Finally! I thought you were losing your touch for a moment there. Took you long enough.” The figure called to them. The lead hunter, C-43 stepped forwards, opening her mouth to speak “Save it.” The figure held up a hand, stopping her before she could even utter a word. “I know the routine. Chop chop.”

THE VOID, THE END OF TIME

“121.”

The figure sighed, stepping back from the wall of the underground bunker, tossing the pocket knife they had used to carve another line into the stone to the side as it landed on the rickety wooden desk with a thud.

“Well… Could be worse I guess.” They muttered, a hand moving to their chest. “Although, that one did hurt.” They rubbed the area lightly, turning to look at the empty room. Their shoulders dropped slightly, hand falling back to their side as they took in the silence - save for the distant rumblings of Alioth above. Sighing, they shifted towards the tatty record player - it was holding on for dear life. Crouching, they began to sift through the dusty records, deciding which one to play - which one would starve off the loneliness for a few minutes?

Grabbing one of the vinyls, they slid it from its sleeve, carefully handling it like it was something precious and irreplaceable. Gently, they placed it on the turntable, the small generator they used to power it flaring to life as they moved the needle, the static filling the quiet as the record began to spin.

“Still don't know what I was waiting for, And my time was running wild, a million dead-end streets…”

The figure pushed themselves to stand, wiping their hands on their trousers, eyes watching the vinyl spinning, taking a deep breath.

“Every time I thought I'd got it made, It seemed the taste was not so sweet…”

TIME THEATRE 7, THE TVA, THE PAST

“You know, I’m starting to get a bit of Deja Vu.”

“And I’m starting to get a bit of a headache.”

Agent Mobius let out a huff of amusement, leaning back in his chair as his eyes took in the figure sat opposite him. He was sure it was them. It had to be. He met in a lot of variants, but something about this one…

“It’s strange. We couldn’t get a read of your Temporal Aura.” Mobius continued, tapping the end of his pencil absentmindedly against the file before him. “Meaning we don’t know much about you at all… what timeline you belong to, what path you take, the start and end, what version of you you even are…” The figure shrugged, expression unbothered. “So, why don’t we start with a name?”

“Oh, how polite of you.” The figure quipped. “Find out my name before you erase me. Lovely.” Mobius sighed, simply raising a brow. The figure rolled their eyes. “(Y/N).” They glanced down at themselves, the ill-fitting TVA jumpsuit hanging from their frame, tugging at the material with a disgruntled look.

“There we go.” Mobius smirked. “Now, that wasn’t so hard was it?” He quipped lightly, making a note in the file. “You know… I couldda sworn we’ve met before.”

“Or maybe you’re losing the plot.” The figure quipped dryly in return, making Mobius shake his head, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

“So, have we?” He asked casually, shrugging faintly. “Have we met?” The figure pursed his lips, shifting slightly in their seat as their eyes flickered around the room.

“Yes.” They answered with a sigh. “Yes, we have. And yes, I’m the same person.” Mobius nodded slowly, brows furrowing as his expression turned more serious.

“How?” The question left the agents lips before he could think about it. “You remember it. You’re a variant. We reset you.” He muttered, more to himself than the person sat opposite. The figure couldn’t help but let out a humourless laugh, eyes landing back on the analyst.

“Welcome to my life.”

TIME THEATRE 5, THE TVA, THE PRESENT

“I’m making you an offer. Hear me out, see what you think, and then maybe you can help me, help the TVA figure out our little problem.”

“And let me guess, if I refuse, I’m reset. Erased from existence.”

Loki sat on the steps of the Time Theatre, forearms resting on his knees as he looked up at the agent. His words were defeated almost, not holding much bite now - not after what he had just seen on his file… What was the point? Mobius sighed, pruning device in hand by his side as he shrugged faintly, tilting his head. Loki took a breath, sniffing slightly before pushing himself to his feet, the ill-fitted TVA jumpsuit adorning his form rustling with the movement. The Tesseract remained on the steps near where he had just been sat, the cube powerless, useless in the TVA. Just another paperweight for their collection.

“I’m listening.” Loki finally said, his voice slightly subdued, posture faintly slumped. Mobius’ eyes flickered over the God, moving to place the timestick down on the dark glossy table in the centre of the room with a soft clink as he reached into his jacket, grabbing his trusty TemPad. Loki’s brows furrowed as a holographic image of the sacred timeline appeared in the air between them, taking a few steps closer to get a better look, his pale sharp features illuminated by the blue glow.

“We’ve got a glitch in our system.” Mobius began lowly, his words measured. “Or perhaps a ghost is the better word.” He huffed dryly, eyes flickering back to the hologram. Pressing a button on the Tempad, glowing dots appeared scattered across the timeline, making Loki’s brows furrow further. “Those red dots? They’re what we call irregularities. You see, when we reset a variant or a branch, things return to how they should be, as dictated by the Time Keepers. Like nothing ever happened, order restored.” He continued, looking at Loki through the pulsating hologram, seeing the Trickster’s eyes trailing over the multiple dots. “However, where those dots are, the irregularities… They’re located where the timeline has branched in the past, leaving a… Residual energy of sorts. Ripples in the fabric of time, left behind from something… Or someone.” Despite himself, Loki’s interest peaked. Mobius held back a smirk, knowing that his words would get his attention. With another press of a button, the hologram changed, the pixels shifting to make up a new image… then another. And another… And another– Multiple images of the same person appeared, each one’s appearance ever so slightly different, like a shorter or longer hair cut or an outfit from a different time, but definitely the same person... “This is who’s haunting us.”

“And what makes this variant upsetting the TVA so special? What makes them so different?” Loki questioned, eyes narrowing. Mobius’ lips twitched faintly.

“Well…” Mobius sighed. “Let me explain— You see variants traditionally have different temporal aura’s, there’s a way to categorise them, to identify which timeline they came from when we bring them in. Like we know you are from Earth-616, we know what events you would’ve faced on the sacred timeline.” He explained, nodding towards where the projection of Loki’s file had played out not long ago. Loki’s jaw tightened for a second, the painful reminder of his file flashing through his mind. “Whereas this individual… We can’t seem to quite pinpoint anything except the basics like species and appearance, and we can only use what we can get a read on when we arrive at the branched timeline to reset it.” Loki remained silent for a moment, processing this new information. It was… Intriguing, to say the least. Whoever this variant was… They indeed did seem to be a ghost of sorts.

“But, what we do know…” Mobius continued, arching a brow, the hologram zoning in on one of the images, the others all disappearing as it revealed a variant processing image of the individual, dressed in the TVA Variant jumpsuit… Their most recent capture of this individual. Dark circles around their eyes, but a glint to them that screamed ‘chaos’. Their expression was hardened, clearly having lived through a lot… “Is that no matter how many times we prune them… They come back. The exact same person. Not a variant of the same being. It seems… there’s only one of them on the whole of the sacred timeline. No variants. Just them.” Loki’s eyes widened faintly, taking another small step closer to the image before him, his eyes flickering over it curiously. “And when they’re spat back out into the universe… They remember everything.” Mobius said quietly, the gravity of the situation evident. “Every life, every death… Every bit of information they learn about the TVA with every resetting… They remember it all.”

“And that makes them a threat.” Loki slowly spoke, realisation dawning that this individual could be dangerous. Although, a part of him found such a thing enticing, tempting… Perhaps this ‘ghost’ could be useful…

“Exactly.” Mobius nodded, closing the screen cover on his Tempad, the click echoing quietly through the large room as the image disappeared, leaving nothing between them but air. “So… You interested?”

A moment of silent passed, before Loki straightened, his earlier woes seemingly disappearing as he redirected his focus onto this tantalising opportunity. His demeanour shifted, an almost predatory smile spreading across his face.

“Where do we start?”

THE TVA WORKROOM, THE ANALYSTS DEPARTMENT

“And now you know all about the TVA and our work here! Remember folks, tidy timeline, tidy mind! Take care, ya’ll!”

Loki rolled his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time, flicking through the magazine in his hand, features utterly disinterested and his posture relaxed, almost lounging. When he asked ‘where do we start’, he hadn’t expected to be sat for hours listening to a southern cartoon clock drone on about the intricacies of the TVA and its mission. Long gone was the frumpy TVA jumpsuit, now he was dressed more appropriately for a man of his stature, his elegance; a pressed white button down shirt, coffee coloured tie and slacks and polished black dress shoes. It was hardly garb fitting a King, but… It would do.

“Is that my jet ski maga- You know what, doesn’t matter, put it down and take a look at this.”

The light thud of the magazine being quickly discarded sounded, slender fingers reaching for the offered brown folder from Mobius with an eagerness that betrayed just how utterly bored the God of Mischief had been whilst sat digesting the TVA’s dogma - or as he had grumbled, ‘utter bureaucratic, fantastical nonsense’. Loki’s keen eyes flickered over the cover, wasting no time before flicking the folder open to reveal the contents inside. His eyes landed on the first page, a case briefing document.

“Variant X0000…” Loki murmured lowly, intrigue clear in his voice, his brows ever so slightly creasing together.

“Yeah, we had to create a whole new ID system for this one.” Mobius sighed, placing his hands on his hips as he looked down at the prince, who looked anything but princely in his TVA attire - in fact, he looked quite… ordinary. Although, the arrogance of a Prince still remained.

“And what do your precious Time Keepers think about that?” Loki questioned dryly, not bothering to look up as his eyes flickered over the information before him. It wasn’t much, but it gave him a vague idea of just how out of their depth the TVA was with this particular case. “Surely the all-seeing, all-powerful, uptight time dictators would bristle at such a notion - their agents shaking things up with a new filing system.” Mobius let out a slow breath, raising a brow, tilting his head as a faint flicker of amusement danced in his eyes.

“I think they have more important matters like protecting the sacred timeline and ensuring time doesn’t implode to worry about it.” Mobius quipped, finally shifting to grab one of the nearby office chairs from the desk beside his own, rolling it over.

“And… I don’t suppose those are your footnotes?” Loki raised a brow, a glint of amusement in his eyes as his lips flickered upwards faintly at the scribbles on the paper, especially when it came to their ‘Variant Name’ which was listed as ‘Unknown’ by the TVA, yet this individual had scribbled it out and put ‘(Y/N)’ in capital letters. Mobius let out a wry huff, shaking his head.

“No, they are not.” He mumbled. “They were quite insistent they ‘amended’ their file.”

“Deja Vu.” Loki read quietly from the ‘alias’ section of the document, more to himself than to the analyst who lowered himself into his seat with a quiet grunt. There was another annotation there, a disgruntled scribbled ‘REALLY???’ beside it.

“Oh, that-” Mobius’ lips tugged upwards for a second. “That may have been my doing. Started as a joke, and then it just sort of… stuck, I guess.” Loki finally glanced up from the file, arching his brow in a silent question, expecting Mobius to elaborate. “Well, you know what Deja Vu is.” Mobius shrugged lightly. “And the way this variant keeps reappearing, the same routine over and over despite how many times we prune ‘em, you can imagine it feels similarly to Deja Vu: ‘Wait a minute, haven’t we done this before?’”

“Right.” Loki said slowly, brows lifting, chin lowering. “So, you gave the TVA’s number one troublemaker a nickname?” Mobius pursed his lips, giving the God a look of exasperation as Loki huffed out a short breathy sound of dry amusement. “And now you’re working with another renowned troublemaker to solve the mystery?”

“Yeah- alright, what can I say?” Mobius sighed, leaning back in his chair, the metal creaking lightly with the movement. “Desperate times call for desperate measures and all that.”

“Desperate?” Loki repeated the word, nose scrunching, indignance in his tone. “Charming.” He muttered, blue eyes once again turning back to the file in his hand. “And I assume ‘The Anomaly’ is the TVA’s less affectionate sounding nickname for them? Very inspiring.” He added sarcastically.

“I didn’t realise we had the nickname police in the building today.” The analyst commented, his tone matching Loki’s. “Let’s just focus, yeah?”

Silence fell between them both, Loki letting out a heavy breath before doing as he was told - focusing. Discarding the first document onto the desk before him, Loki’s eyes narrowed as they landed on what appeared to be a Temporal Aura reading, his nimble fingers grasping the polaroid, lifting it slightly. Blank. It was blank. Well, except for the solid, vivid violet hue that meant nothing to him. He heard Mobius shift beside him, reaching for another folder on his desk - seemingly another variants’ case file. Loki’s gaze followed the man, watching him open the file as he retrieved a polaroid, holding it up so Loki could see.

“This is what a typical reading looks like.” Mobius explained. “Multiple colours, a little bit like a thermal image.” Loki nodded briefly. “Yet, every time we’ve arrested this variant… We get this.” He pointed a finger towards the polaroid still in Loki’s hand. “Remember what I said earlier? About how we couldn’t pinpoint this variant? Now, we’ve got our theories-” Mobius added lowly, placing the reading down onto the desk.

“Are they good or idiotic?” Loki asked, his tone holding a mocking edge. Choosing to ignore it, Mobius continued.

“The one I lean towards is that because this lone variant has seemingly shifted timelines, shifted universes, whilst, yes, maintaining the same memories, the same soul every time they are… ‘reincarnated’ so to speak–” Mobius took a breath. “The Temporal Aura reader isn’t equipped to process that sort of information. It’s.. confused. It spits this out-” He taps a finger on the polaroid in Loki’s fingers. “Because it doesn’t know how to categorise them. It can’t pin what variant this is. Because they aren’t technically a variant. It’s like… There’s an overload of Temporal energy. A being with a consciousness, a soul, that has hopped so many timelines, remembering all the lives they’ve lived… It’s never happened before.”

Loki’s features were thoughtful as Mobius spoke. He had to admit, much of it would’ve gone over his head had it not been for the infuriatingly irritating training videos he had been forced to watch to prepare for the case. Of course, he wouldn’t actually audibly admit that, no. Humming briefly, Loki placed the polaroid down finally, leaning back in his seat, the folder resting on his lap. His hand lifted, fingers rubbing lightly at his chin as he thought over Mobius’ words, remembering bits of information from the videos as well as processing what lay before him.

“I’m starting to believe that perhaps the TVA’s uninspired nickname for them may be rather astute. ‘The Anomaly’…” Loki muttered with a faint note of humour, making Mobius’ lips curl upwards faintly in an amused smirk. “But what I don’t understand is… Why me?” The Prince’s blue eyes flickered to Mobius, searching his gaze skeptically. “What makes you think that I-” He pressed a hand to his chest lightly to emphasise his words. “-can even begin to unravel this little mystery?” His question was half genuine and half probing, classically Loki. He knew there was more going on, more at play here… Mobius had taken a risk, preventing him from being reset and asking for his help, and truthfully, the God wasn’t keeping his options narrow. His mind was constantly turning, constantly trying to figure out his next move, the possible outcome of this… endeavour. A possible throne… “Truly, I’m flattered,” He added wryly. “But my speciality is tricks and illusions, with a splash of dramatic flair and a tendency for betrayal, so…” He smirked, leaning ever so slightly closer to the agent beside him. “Why me?”

His question hung in the air between them, Mobius seemingly taking his time to answer. The grey haired analyst shifted slightly in his seat, taking a sharp breath before shrugging. “Why not you?” He paused. “Look Loki, I admit, this is a shot in the dark.” Another pause. “Like I said, desperate times. But you’re resourceful, clever-”

“Obviously.”

“-and have knowledge on things like magic. Perhaps there’s something we’re missing. Something less… Sciency and something more… Ancient.” Loki raised his chin faintly, leaning back slowly as he appraised Mobius. Interesting.

“You think there’s magic at play?” Loki asked, curious.

“Well, when the science doesn’t add up…” Mobius trailed off, tilting his head. “We’ve gotta look at it from a different angle, a new perspective.”

“Hm.” Loki’s lips twitched upwards again, eyes lowering to the document he’d placed earlier on the desk, his sharp eyes honing in on the mugshot style photograph of this ‘anomaly’. It was the same image that Mobius had shown him before. There was a defiant glint in their eyes, one that he wouldn’t have quite expected considering the circumstances they had found themselves in. Being ‘reset’, dying over and over again, only to appear alive somewhere else as if they had never been harmed or erased from existence in the first place… He couldn’t imagine such a life. Well, not to the extent this variant could. A close call with death once was enough for him. But them… They faced it time and time again. He wondered if they even feared death anymore, or whether it became just as normal and ordinary as making oneself a cup of coffee in the morning. But he could see it… The exhaustion. Not necessarily physical, but mental… Emotional. He recognised that look.

Looking at the whole picture, they were unassuming - hardly someone he would deem a threat to the TVA, to the so-called sacred timeline… However, he knew looks could be deceiving. He wondered how old they truly were… Possibly older than he was. He knew Mobius was relying on his affinity for mystery, for his curiosity, his need to problem solve and prove that he was capable… However, he was also capable of being slippery, unpredictable and cunning… ‘(Y/N)’... He read, mentally filing that bit of information. No last name, seemingly self chosen. Slowly a grin appeared on his lips as he leaned forwards to pick up the document from the desk, his voice low and silky as he spoke:

“A new perspective indeed.”

“You lost him again!?”

“I didn’t lose him- I just… don’t know where he is!”

“You left him on his own, without supervision-”

“In the Archives! Doing research for the case! It wasn’t like I gave him the keys to-”

Mobius paused, B-15’s brows pinching as she slowed her own steps, looking back at the agent as he patted the outside of his jacket. B-15 took a deep breath, irritation and frustration evident in her features as Mobius sighed. “Damn it.” He muttered, realising that the Trickster God had swiped his TemPad at some point. “Mischievous scamp.” He shook his head, B-15 grabbing her own TemPad, prepared to ready the troops, but Mobius quickly lifted a hand. “Wait, wait- If he had left the TVA, we would know by now. So that means he’s still here.”

“And that’s better because…?!” B-15 snapped, raising a brow.

“Because I have a feeling I know where he is.”

TIME THEATRE 1, THE TVA

Loki’s polished shoes clicked against the glossy floor of Time Theatre 1, the room eerily quiet, the illusion of no life within… Frowning slightly, his eyes flickered around the room. ‘This is the room… But… Where are they…?’ It was then his attentive gaze landed on a thin crevice in the grey wall to his right, alluding to it being a discreet door… Or a holding cell of some kind. A holding cell within a holding cell… ‘How dramatic.’ He huffed, shaking his head at the overly cautious nature of it all. Slowly, he approached, lifting Mobius’ TemPad in his hand, eyes scanning the screen as he tried to figure out its mechanics, how to open the mysterious doors. After a few moments of pressing random buttons, finally, the sound of metal unlocking and sliding filled the space. Loki’s lips tugged into a triumphant smirk, pleased with himself. ‘Let’s see what you’re made of.’

A red glow emanated as the doors opened, revealing a tiny holding cell with only a bench inside. The red glow belonged to a barrier, an extra layer of precaution against the threat it held within… A threat that… Looked utterly unthreatening. They sat leisurely, as if they were unfazed by the fact they were currently locked in a cell, their fate hanging in the balance. The TVA jumpsuit they adorned was baggy, ill-fitting, just as Loki’s had been when he first arrived - although, he’d gone up in the TVA world since then… Minus the hideous and frankly insulting ‘VARIANT’ windbreaker he was now forced to wear. However, what he hadn’t expected was the person to let out an almost exasperated groan, the barrier continuing to flicker between them.

“Great.” They muttered, their tone flat. “As if my day couldn’t get any worse.” It was spoken as if they knew who he was… Curious.

“A pleasure to meet you too.” Loki quipped dryly, tucking the TemPad into his inside jacket pocket, taking a step closer as his hands shifted behind his back, clasping his fingers together. “I take it, you know who I am?” The individual, (Y/N) as he recalled, pursed their lips, giving him a rather unimpressed look.

“I’ve been through more timelines than I can count and you think I don’t know who you are?” They huffed, eyeing him. “Go to the Void, throw a stone, and you’re likely to hit a Loki.” The God’s brows twitched.

“The Void?” He questioned as they immediately rolled their eyes, pushing themselves to stand. Loki’s gaze followed them, having to hold back an amused smirk at the rather unimpressive stature of the individual behind the barrier. They were hardly a warrior… Nor did they look like a fighter. ‘All of this… For them? And yet, I was left alone. Twice. The cheek of it.’

“Although, working for the TVA?” Their eyes reflected the red hue of the barrier as their gaze trailed over him, skepticism in their features, ignoring his question. “Now, that’s new. And rather cowardly.” Loki’s amusement quickly vanished, his jaw tightening. “But then, you always were a coward really. Avoidant. That’s what you are. Your personality type, hell, even your attachment style - just in case you were wondering.” Loki took a deep breath, fixing a tight smile on his lips, tilting his head as he regarded them. “Read it in a magazine once.”

“Fascinating.” He droned. He had gone through enough psychoanalysing from a stranger for one day. “You’re rather brazen.” He murmured, before his tone shifted, taking on a darker edge. “And foolish to mock me.” His chin tipped downwards, eyes narrowing into something far more menacing as (Y/N) simply arched a brow, their own eyes flickering to the side, as if glancing at someone that wasn’t there.

“Who said I was mocking you?” They asked bemused. “No, it was more of an… observation from the multiple times I’ve run into you.” They paused. “Which, by the way, the last time I bumped into one of your variants, he literally stabbed me in the back so…” They let out a breath, shrugging. Loki’s irritation faltered for a moment, his neck straightening.

“I’d never stab anyone in the back, it’s a boring form of betrayal.” He commented, unclasping his hands from behind his back, letting them fall to his sides. (Y/N) let out a huff of amusement.

“Whatever you say.” They muttered, turning slightly as they began to pace along the barrier of their cell. “I’m going to assume your little visit here wasn’t authorised.” They continued.

“You assume correctly.” He shifted on his feet, his hands sliding into his trouser pockets as his keen eyes followed their movements.

“And I also assume they’ve filled you in on my…” They paused, glancing back at him. “Problem.” Loki nodded curtly. “And if my gut is working correctly, it’s telling me that the TVA thinks that you can help ‘figure me out’?” Their tone was disbelieving, scepticism still evident.

“I’m quite good at figuring things and people out.” Loki’s smirk returned, oozing arrogance. “And I must admit, your situation is… unique.” He took another step closer to the barrier, his voice lowering. (Y/N) paused their pacing, folding their arms over their chest as they turned to face him properly. “Reincarnation, but not quite.” Their lips pursed, remaining silent. “A cosmic anomaly… A one of a kind…”

“Alright, I get it.” They sighed, rolling their eyes.

“Do you?” (Y/N) blinked at his question, shaking their head ever so faintly in silent confusion. “You leave imprints on the sacred timeline, ripples in time… Imagine what you could do to this place…” His smirk widened, his looming figure mere inches from the barrier between them. “I theorise… that you, little anomaly… could burn this place to the ground…” The air felt tense, uncertain… Loki’s words lingered between them as he held their gaze, seeing the flicker of recognition in their eyes, the realisation that he could be right. “And maybe… Maybe without the TVA protecting their precious Time Keepers, you could figure out exactly what you are.” He continued, voice barely above a whisper, almost tempting, conspiratorial. “And I could get what I am owed.”

“Loki!”

The God straightened, taking a large step back away from the barrier as the doors to the time theatre swung open, rushed footsteps entering as Loki quickly fixed himself with a placating smile, turning to look at Mobius and B-15. B-15 gripped her timestick tightly, ready to strike at any moment, whilst Mobius looked disapprovingly at Loki.

“Ah, Mobius, B-15… How nice of you to join us.” Loki mused, his voice light and charming, as if he hadn’t just been scheming.

“Out.” Mobius said through gritted teeth. Loki stayed put. “Now, Loki!” The analyst raised his voice, frustrated. Loki’s smile faltered briefly, but he did what he was told. Glancing one last time at (Y/N), he moved towards the exit, only stopping when Mobius held out his hand. “TemPad.” Loki sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes as he begrudgingly reached into his windbreaker, grabbing the device and handing it back to Mobius before continuing on his way. B-15 and Mobius exchanged a look, before their gazes drifted to (Y/N), who was now smirking in amusement. Saying nothing, they lifted their hand, waving mockingly, making B-15’s jaw tighten before the hunter whipped round to Mobius.

“If this happens again, I’m informing Renslayer.” B-15 muttered lowly, warning as her eyes flickered back to (Y/N), using her own TemPad to reseal the cell doors once again, the metallic sound of the doors sliding shut echoing through the room. Turning on her heel, she left Mobius alone, marching out of the room as the agent let out a somewhat relieved sigh.

“Damn, Trickster.”

“Do you have a death wish?!”

“Oh Mobius! Stop being so dramatic-“

“I’m serious, Loki!” Mobius hissed, stood outside of the Time Theatre, a few minutemen glancing their direction due to the analysts' clear anger. Loki took a deep breath, sliding his hands into his trouser pockets as he fought to bite his tongue. “I’m already putting my neck on the line trusting you-“ Biting his tongue didn’t last long.

“That was your first mistake-“ Loki interrupted, but Mobius ignored him.

“I can’t have you fraternising with the time criminal!”

“Incase you’ve forgotten, technically I am also a time criminal-“

“Shut up!” Loki blinked, taken back at the man’s snappy tone, his lips pressing into a thin line. He felt like a child being scolded, it was irritating - and a little embarrassing. Mobius cleared his throat, glancing at a pair of minutemen walking past as he gave a small nod, trying to appear as if everything was fine and dandy. Once they’d passed, Mobius stepped closer to the God of Mischief, the hallway quiet.

“I thought that some part of you would relish in managing to solve a case before us. To prove you’re as clever as you know you are.” Mobius said lowly, finger pointed towards Loki’s chest, his eyes searching. “And perhaps some part of me that sees a scared little boy left in the cold also felt sorry for you, wanted to give you the chance to prove yourself. Not to me, but to yourself.” Loki’s lips parted, a flicker of guilt creeping up on him as he averted his gaze, looking down. However, he quickly pushed that feeling aside.

“I don’t need your pity.” Loki mumbled defensively.

“Good, because I’m running out of it.” Mobius shook his head, turning on his heel to continue down the hall. “One more strike left, Loki.” He warned, not bothering to look back as the God let out a slow breath, eyes narrowing as they flickered back to the Time Theatre door. After a second, he moved after Mobius, his long strides quickly catching up.

THE BREAK ROOM, THE TVA

“Let me talk to them-“

“No!”

“Oh, come on!”

“Loki, you’ve already been in there with them alone-“

“Yes, and we’ve now got the pleasantries out of the way-“

“And you could’ve said anything to them-“

“You asked for my help. Let me help.”

Mobius sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned back in his seat. They sat in the canteen, the room quiet save for the slight noise from passing vehicles outside the large window and the clatter and clinking of cutlery and ceramic. It was rather drab, truth be told, considering it was supposed to invoke a feeling of relaxation - well, the Time Keepers definition anyway.

“I know that what I did earlier was wrong, I get that. I shouldn’t have gone behind your back-“ Loki leaned forwards in his seat, his expression slightly less guarded as he tried to appeal to Mobius’ more forgiving nature. “But I needed to plant the seed.”

“The seed?” Mobius repeated, blinking as he raised a brow, his hand falling from his face. “What- What seed?”

“Well, I imagine the TVA’s number one problem is hardly fond of you all after the amount of times you’ve pruned them.” He tilted his head faintly. “Over 200 times and they remember every one? I’m surprised this place hasn’t already been decimated.”

“The point, Loki?” Mobius sighed, exasperated.

“Right, yes-“ Loki nodded, straightening in his seat, hands resting on the table between them. “The seed I planted is the good old fashioned ‘an enemy of an enemy is a friend’.” He smirked. “I made an offer of sorts. Something for them to think over whilst they’re stuck in that… charming cell of theirs.” Mobius groaned quietly, lifting his hands in a shrug as he glanced away. “What? I thought it was a good idea!” Loki exclaimed, frowning, making a few other workers trying to enjoy their lunches look their way.

“And how do I know you’re not pulling a good old fashioned ‘you can trust me, I told you what I got up to’. A double bluff?” He countered. “You tell me about the offer to gain my trust and then behind my back you actually go through with it, ultimately betraying both of us in the end— A triple bluff even!” Loki’s lips parted in mock offence, scoffing as he leaned against the back of his chair, arms spreading slightly.

“I would never do that!” Loki exclaimed, his voice higher than usual.

“Loki, I know your whole life, I’ve studied it, you have literally done that multiple times.” Mobius raised a brow, although there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. Loki paused, eyes drifting to the side for a moment before he shrugged.

“I’ll never do it again!”

Mobius couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head as he reached for his coffee mug, the Trickster leaning forwards once again, arms resting on the table. “Look, you can watch or listen in. You can be at the ready right outside the doors-“ Loki continued, his tone persuasive. “But you asked me for my help. And I know how it feels to feel lost…” His voice shifted, a more sincere tone appearing as it turned quieter. “Displaced. Unsure of who I am…” He cleared his throat softly, eyes flickering away as Mobius’ brows creased in thought. “And I can see it in them. Maybe I can appeal to their… sentimentalities. Learn more. Gather more information that could possibly help us.” He paused. “I’m an outsider here. They won’t talk to you or anyone else here because of the past. But maybe, they will talk to me.”

Mobius pursed his lips, folding his arms over his chest as he held the God’s gaze, trying to assess if he was manipulating him, trying to control the situation… But Mobius also knew he was right. Loki was their best chance of finding out more…

TIME THEATRE 1, THE TVA

“Don’t try anything.”

“What? Or you’ll prune me?”

The corner of Loki’s lips tugged upwards, his hand lifting from beneath the table to reveal the Time Displacement Collar’s remote, watching as (Y/N) narrowed their eyes, folding their arms over their chest as they leaned back against their chair. He had to admit, it was ironic… How not long ago it was him sitting in the interrogation seat, Mobius questioning him…

“‘Heel, boy’.” They mocked lowly. “‘Fetch, boy’.” They huffed, shaking their head in disbelief. Loki chose to ignore those comments, lowering his hand, keeping the remote safely in his hold. “Do they give you treats for being so obedient?”

“Oh, I don’t need treats.” Loki’s smirk remained. “Just the assurance that I get to keep my life.” He paused. “Something that you can’t even bargain with, can you? Your life.” He raised a brow, observing them from across the table, the time theatre silent save for their voices. He watched as their jaw tightened. “Because they know that it’s nothing to you, right? You die and then you just… wake up somewhere else. Reborn.” The mocking edge to this voice was enough to make (Y/N) lunge forwards, their hands slamming on the table top. Loki was quick, pressing the reverse button as they found themselves sitting back in their seat, a heavy breath leaving them. Time displacement… That sensation never got easier. “Now, now… Let’s be civilised.” Loki’s tone mocked lightly.

“My life matters.” (Y/N) said through gritted teeth. “At least I don’t have to stoop so low, be so desperate as to use my life as a bargaining chip.”

“Maybe not. But you do know desperation, don’t you?” Loki asked, his voice taking on a deceptively softer tone. “Rather intimately, I’d say.” Silence fell between them as (Y/N)’s gaze flickered away, their posture tense, rigid even. “Desperation is born from fear, the unknown…” Loki continued evenly. “And your whole existence… it’s shrouded in mystery.”

“What is this?” They hissed. “An attempt at interrogating me?” They asked incredulously, shaking their head, shifting in their seat to lean forwards, their sharp eyes narrowing. “What game are you playing?”

“The game of survival.” The God answered simply. “One you seem to know quite well.” Sighing slightly, he uncurled his fingers from around the remote, making a show of putting it on the table in front of him slowly. ‘Trust is earned’. “You said you’ve met variants of mine… Then you know that it’s also a game I know quite well too.” ‘Find a common ground’. “And one that the Time Keepers have decided I lose every time.” His lips quirked into a brief humourless smile. “I suppose that’s the truth of it though, the core of the problem…” He paused, tilting his head, eyes fixed on hers. “It seems we were both destined to lose.”

“Speak for yourself.” (Y/N) muttered under their breath, shifting again in their seat as Loki’s fingers twitched, as if readying himself to grab the remote. “Oh, relax.” They sighed. “I’m just getting comfortable for this little…” They furrowed their brows, gesturing between them faintly. “Singing songs around the campfire moment.” Loki let out a breathy chuckle, nodding slowly, relaxing his own posture, but the sharp glint in his eye remained. “I’ll consider this the first official meeting of ‘the losers’ club.”

“Perhaps Mobius could make us some badges.” He added, watching as a reluctant smirk of amusement appeared on their lips as they settled in their seat more comfortably.

“I request tea and biscuits at the next meeting.” They huffed, looking at the empty table surface between them. “Talking business on an empty stomach is always unwise.”

“So, we’re talking business are we?” Loki asked lightly. “Excellent.” He took a breath, slowly leaning back in his seat, his jacket rustling softly. “First rule of ‘losers club’ is we don’t talk about losers club.”

“Ah, okay so, why is your resident TVA handler standing outside of those doors listening in?” (Y/N) asked lightly, Loki’s smirk faltering slightly. “This isn’t my first rodeo, remember?” Their gaze lifted, flickering towards a surveillance camera in the corner of the room, looking down at them. Loki’s gaze followed theirs, spotting the tiny red light, signalling indeed they were being watched and listened in on.

“Okay, fine.” Loki sighed, turning his attention back to them. “Let’s skip the rapport building and get to the meat of it.” His earlier lighter tone shifted, dipping lower. “What do you know about your… abilities?” (Y/N) pursed their lips, folding their arms once more as they gave a half shrug.

“Same amount as you I imagine.” They informed him. “I die in one timeline, I reappear in another.” They raised their brows, holding his gaze unwaveringly. Loki remained silent for a moment, narrowing his eyes faintly, calculating.

“And what about when you’re pruned by the TVA?” (Y/N) tensed faintly. Loki noticed - of course he noticed. “The TVA claims they can erase variants from existence, entire branches… I mean, it’s quite the claim… And quite the incentive to keep workers and variants alike in line, don't you think? I am a cynic afterall, I question everything.” Still, they remained silent. Loki’s smirk ever so slightly returned to his lips, leaning forwards in his seat once more as his hands clasped together, resting on the table top before him. “Fear is a powerful tool, take it from someone who has been on both sides of it.” His voice lowered, a knowing look to his eyes. “And fear can be found in truth… And lies.”

(Y/N) raised their chin slightly, eyes finally averting from his intense gaze. Their expression remained neutral, a poker face to the average joe… But Loki was smarter than that, and far more perceptive. “What’s ‘The Void’?” That question caused their eyes to snap back to his. How much did they want to reveal? Did they want to? The Void was their secret. (Y/N) mentally cursed themselves for even mentioning it before, but hey… They were only human. “Come on… It sounds thrilling.” Loki’s voice shifted again, his tone turning more persuasive, smooth as silk. “Help me… to help you.” (Y/N)’s eyes searched his, watching his smirk grow, almost as if he was silently telling them to trust him, to indulge in his question… “I think you are… owed answers, don’t you?” His words were careful, calling back to their first brief conversation, his offer… Was he truly planning to go through with his scheme? To take down the TVA? To work with them? “Unless you wish to burn this bridge before it could even be built?” Oh, he was. (Y/N) unfolded their arms slowly, leaning forward to mirror his own stance, fingers intertwining on the table before them.

“Building bridges takes teamwork. Trust.” They uttered lowly. “Something I’ve learnt not to freely give. Especially not to a Loki.” That made the God let out a short humourless laugh.

“Yes. Very wise.” He said curtly. “But it appears to me like you’re rather limited on your options.” A pause. “Help me help you, help me help the TVA figure you out…” His eyes flickered over to the camera quickly, putting on a show of loyalty for the agent watching outside. “And then maybe, we can stop you from being killed time and time again and spat back out into the universe like a metaphorical piece of temporal gum, hm?” He mused, eyes returning to theirs. After a moment of the pair seemingly sizing one another up, trying to spot the cracks in the others composure, Loki spoke again, his voice softening. “I imagine it’s a rather lonely existence.” It held a note of understanding, of sincerity. ‘Pinpoint their weakness’. “You’re dragging your roots across time, and despite knowing the truth, there’s a part of you that can’t help but wonder: ‘maybe this time I’ll remain, I’ll be able to dig my roots into the soil.’” (Y/N) blinked a few times, quick, giving away just how Loki’s words were affecting them - hitting the nail on the head. Their breaths quickened faintly, lips twitching downwards slightly. “You’re yearning for stability.”

Finally, they looked away, unclasping their fingers, palms moving to lay flat on the cool surface, as if to ground themselves. ‘Bingo’. Loki’s expression turned somber, empathetic. “Tell me…” He murmured, tone soothing. (Y/N) took a deep breath, clearing their throat softly, shaking their head.

“The Void… It’s…” They whispered, looking at him again, leaning closer towards him over the table, the Trickster following suit. “It’s… My way out.”

Before Loki could even process what was happening, (Y/N) lunged, swiping the remote from the table as they pushed themselves to stand, their chair scraping across the glossy floor with a screech. Loki’s eyes widened, realisation smacking him in the face that he had just been outwitted. He rushed to his feet, his own chair falling back, tipping over as it clattered to the floor. But it was too late, the beep of the remote sounded through the room, the collar from around (Y/N)’s neck falling to the ground. Suddenly, the doors to the Time Theatre opened, commotion following as footsteps rushed into the room.

“Stop!” B-15’s sharp tone reverberated around the space, making Loki scowl, gritting his teeth. The all too familiar sound of the timestick reached his ears, his glare fixed on the person who had just foiled his meticulous scheme.

“Loki!” Mobius’ voice quickly followed, the grey haired analyst rushing in, two more minutemen following. “Deja stand down!” He barked, although there was a pleading undertone to his voice. (Y/N)’s earlier emotional expression was nowhere to be seen, a proud smirk on their lips as they tossed the small remote aside carelessly.

“Oops.” They mocked. “And the name’s (Y/N).”

“X0000, stay where you are!” B-15 ordered, raising her timestick in warning as the two minutemen moved closer to the variant, footsteps either side of her. (Y/N)’s eyes dropped to the closer ones belt, seeing their timestick on their side. Loki’s eyes watched everything closely, analysing and studying every minute expression and movement. When the minuteman got close enough, (Y/N) wasted no time, lifting their foot to kick the woman in the shin. Loki’s hand lifted, preparing to summon his magic– ‘Oh… right.’ Loki growled under his breath.

“I bet you wish I had my magic now!” He snapped, glaring at B-15 as she marched past him, her boots thudding on the floor. (Y/N) sent an elbow to the gut to the other minuteman who tried to stop them, causing the man to stumble back. (Y/N)’s movements were untrained, clearly, however, they were determined - and working. Their fingers grasped the timestick, freeing it from the minuteman’s utility belt before swiping it at the woman, the baton hitting her side, causing her too to stumble back. Just before B-15 could get any closer, (Y/N) activated the timestick, the hum of its power reaching their ears as everyone froze. The air was tense, her breaths heavy, a wild look in their eyes as they flickered over everyone. “What are you going to do now, hm?” Loki asked, his voice bellowing, holding his irritation. “Prune all of us? Take down the TVA alone?” He taunted, tone mocking.

“Not yet.” (Y/N) said lowly, the threat clear in their voice. “‘Live and let die’.” However, what none of them expected was how they swiftly turned the timestick around, the dangerous golden glow now aimed toward themselves. Loki’s brows rose, lips parting in complete disbelief.

“Wait!” Loki exclaimed just as (Y/N) pressed the pruning device to their own chest. Loki watched in half horror and half intrigue as their form erupted in a golden light, creeping outwards from their chest as their face contorted in pain. B-15 took a step back, her timestick dropping to her side as she watched in disbelief, her eyes looking back at Mobius, who wore a similar expression, mixed with discomfort. And then… The timestick that (Y/N) held clattered to the ground, breaking the tense silence for a moment as everyone stood motionless, processing what they had just witnessed.

They were gone. Again.

#loki x reader #loki fic #loki #loki x you #loki series #marvel loki #loki imagine #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson #when time stands still

36 notes · View notes

actually-mentally-ill · 10 months ago

Text

sorry, did you say,

“toxic, dangerous, sexy af and could probably kill me at any given moment if they wanted”?

…

5K notes · View notes

consciouscarrot · 6 months ago

Text

day 19 - breeding [l.laufeyson]

loki x fem!reader

content warnings; p in v, creampie (obvi), one mention of daddy but it’s in a ‘make you one’ way rather than a ‘ooo daddy’ way (this time)

notes; i’m late and it’s shit again but at least i posted lolz

kinktober/flufftober masterlist

—————

morning sunlight poured through the cracks in the curtains as the sounds of your moans and the bed banging against the wall filled the room.

he had your legs bent over his shoulders, hands pressing your thighs down into your chest, cock pounding into you with lewd slaps of skin on skin. his face was hovering just above yours, noses so close that it would only take a deep inhale for them to touch, his dark hair curtaining off your faces away.

you clung to him, pointed nails scratching crimson lines down his broad back as you tried to pull him closer, overcome with pleasure. icy hands ran over your flushed skin, sliding towards your tits, squeezing the supple flesh before leaning down, sucking your nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive nub.

you cried out, high pitched moans tumbling out as you brought a hand to cup at the back of his head, encouraging him to keep lapping at you.

you’re enraptured by the feel of his mouth, such intensity on your sensitive flesh, strong suction causing your slick to gush around his long cock.

he pulls away slowly, focus still stuck on your tits, “fuck, can’t wait for the day these are filled with milk for our children.”

his eyes flicked up when you involuntarily clenched around his thick cock, surprise covering his features.

“oh you dirty girl,” he purred, tilting your jaw up to meet him in a desperate kiss, tongues swirling together, teeth nipping at your bottom lip.

your legs began to shake over his shoulders, knees closing in around his neck. he panted into your mouth, brows scrunched together at the breathtaking feel of your cunt, slick walls tight around his pulsing cock.

“going to fill you up with my babies, you want that, darling? want me to make you a mother?”

“please, wanna feel it, want your babies,”

all it took was a few swipes over your clit and your release was flowing through you, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your hands gripped at him, trying to keep yourself grounded as white light flashed behind your lids.

“oh, good girl, fuck i’m gonna cum, gonna fill you up,”

shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm, you brought your hands up to his hair, tugging just enough for pain to turn to pleasure, keeping your eyes locked on his as you whispered to him, “let me make you a daddy.”

you moaned at the feel of his spend coating your insides, thick cum spurting inside you as you fist at his hair, clenching down at his rough groans. his eyes bore into yours, noses pressed together as you breathing slowed.

he carefully pulled out, whispering a ‘sh sh sh’ when you whimpered as he watched his cum spill out of you. he collected it with his fingertips, smearing it over your puffy cunt before pushing it back inside, plugging you full, looking up at you with a grin.

“i think we’ll need to do that a few more times, you know, just to make sure it takes.”

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki smut #smut #kinktober #kinktober 24 #kinktober 2024 #my work #my works #loki friggason #loki friggason x reader #loki imagine #loki drabble #loki x you #loki x y/n

731 notes · View notes

super-marvel-dc · 1 year ago

Text

Loki, visiting the squad: Hello, I just came to-

Loki: *sees Y/N shoving Bucky into the washing machine while Sam records, and Tony watches*

Loki: *Leaving slowly* something suddenly came up...

#loki laufeyson x reader #loki x reader #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier x reader #sam wilson x reader #falcon x reader #tony stark x reader #iron man x reader #incorrect marvel quotes #marvel incorrect quotes

1K notes · View notes

ghostfacesvalentine · 1 year ago

Text

Princess treatment only - MultiMuse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not many, some mentions of killing, but nothing graphic. Kind of fluffy

Type: HC’s

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Some HC’s as to how the muses would give the reader the princess treatment.

Notes: I don’t know where I was going with this, but this is mainly fluff, maybe sometime I’ll spice it up. I just had to get my writing juice brewing. Not proofread at all just go.

Jason Voorhees: Honestly, would treat you like a princess regardless. Will pick flowers for you when he’s outside. Always lets you borrow his flannels. Always walks in front of you to make sure there’s no danger, but looks back constantly to make sure there’s no danger behind you?? lmao. You won’t ever have to lift a finger when you’re with him. Literally at your beck and call. Will try his best not to kill in front of you, but sometimes it just ?? happens lol. Tries to be soft when touching you because you’re literally the most perfect thing that has ever crossed his path.

Michael Myers: Is your literal bodyguard. Will follow you anywhere and everywhere, you might as well call him your shadow. Lets you hug him and climb onto his lap whenever. Won’t hug you back yet, working on it. Nobody comes near you, no exceptions. Sorry. Stares at you most of the time. Can’t say it, but you’re literally flawless to him. Will use his body as a shield for you. Would kill anything for you. Eventually learns to put his palm against your cheek and that’s his second greatest accomplishment, the first being bagging you, literally and figuratively.

Tiffany Valentine: You won’t ever have to worry about a thing when you’re with her. Always gets her hands dirty for you. Lots of cheek and neck kisses. Praises your looks all the time. She will always brag about you whether it’s what you do, how you look, anything and everything. She would always make sure you have the latest clothes. She’d make sure you always had your staple make up pieces available. When it comes to killing, she’d get creative, that way you guys will never have literal blood on your hands, especially you, never you.

Billy Loomis: Lots of nicknames. Kinda only has a soft spot for you. Can never ever tell you no and stick to it. Won’t hesitate to kill anyone who makes fun of him for this. Drives you everywhere. Ties your shoes. Always makes time for you. Will help you pick out your outfits and tell you which one he likes and which one he doesn’t. Will wear the bracelets you make him. Anything in his closet is yours, help yourself. Always touching you, holding your hand, holding your waist, you’ve infatuated him enough to have him carelessly cover you in soft kisses, laying his head on your shoulder. Kinda creative with dates tbh.

Stu Macher: You will forever be his princess. Will carry you across puddles. Lots of cheek and forehead kisses. Would learn how to paint your nails for you during class. Always makes sure you have a good grade on your exam, whether he has to swap out the papers after class or make sure you get the right answers, you can absolutely count on him. You don’t have to use your brain around him, no worries. Thinks you look adorable in his sweaters, especially oversized. Loves when you sit on his lap. Prioritizes you over anything and everything. Even if you don’t like horror movies, Stu would absolutely find something else for you to watch.

Patrick Bateman: Honestly, when he falls in love with you, it’s princess treatment only. Will give you a skin care routine and help you follow through with it. Kind of makes you feel dumb, but not like a stupid dumb, more like a ‘oh dear sweet baby you are a little dumb but pretty, but dumb, let me help you’ Same thing if you fall asleep with your makeup on, Patricks on the way with the micellar makeup remover. Will speak up for you if you don’t like a service, he won’t be mean about it unless he has to. Always makes sure you’re hydrated (also part of your skin care routine). You will be a housewife/girlfriend. Feel free to splurge, you are his trophy princess after all. Will take you anywhere you want. Will make things up for you if he has to be at work late.

Leatherface: I don’t ever see a scenario where Bubba does not treat his s/o like a princess. It’s like part of the deal. Either way, expect wild flowers all the time. It’s his favorite thing to do for you. He even makes you a vase and makes sure your flowers are always fresh. Will literally die and kill for you without any hesitation. At his knees for you. Bubba will crawl to you across pins and needles if you asked him to. He’s always making sure you’re comfortable and safe, never hungry or in your mind for too long. Melts at your touch. Would learn how to dance just to dance to your favorite songs. Always gets awestruck with you.

Harley Quinn: Will absolutely take you anywhere you want, no matter how random it is. Always dazed when looking at you. Keeps pictures of you all dressed up in her bag or car or wherever she goes. Selina gave her a heart shaped locket once and yeah, you guessed it, the cutest picture of you is in there. Doesn’t hesitate to shoot any man for you. Leaves your face covered in red kisses. She would do anything to make you laugh. Anything you want, it’s yours! Just point at it.

Poison Ivy: Pamela will always spoil you, regardless of how you act. You’ve heard of people growing gardens for their s/o, she would grow forests for you. She’s the most gentle with you, gentle caresses and soft kisses. Paints your nails, brushes your hair while adding flowers into the locks. Always admires dressing you up and putting make up on you. Almost never wants you to leave. Slow dances with you. She’d do anything to keep you out of danger. You think Michael is a good bodyguard? Pamela is the bodyguard.

Bruce Wayne: hhnnnngh. Ok. No but you are the Princess Wayne. Spoiling you rotten goes without saying. Anything your little heart desires is yours. Helps you get dressed. His favorite is helping you with your stockings. Gentle kisses everywhere. Brushes your hair. Lifting you up constantly when there’s a crack in the pavement. Always the driver. Your safety is always first, always. No because whatever you want means whatever you want, which is why there are hello kitty plushies scattered across the Wayne manor. You’ve somehow managed to get your own cozy theater in there too. Princess treatment also means Bruce having to lay back just a teeny bit on Batman just to guard you too while you sleep.

Jason Todd: nmmnnmf YES. I don’t see him treating his s/o any other way. Lots of pet names. Loooves to help you get dressed. Sits you on the counter as he cooks. Never lets you out of his sight. Anything you want it’s yours. Always buying you cute socks and letting you wear his clothes. Forehead kisses. Oh man it’s so disgusting how much Jason loves his princess. Always taking pictures of you, no matter the angle. Would 1000000% tie bows into your hair if you asked.

Billy Hargrove: Honestly if he’s in love with you, princess treatment is granted. Always giving you his jackets, especially when you wear skirts or dresses out. Lifting you over mud and puddles. Subtle kisses on the head while you’re out. Body guard mode activated. He kinda becomes your shadow, appearing out of nowhere and greeting you with a kiss on the forehead. Ties your shoes without asking. Wiping any tears or smeared makeup off your face. Winks at you all the timeee.

Steve Harrington: Kind of similar to Stu, he always makes sure you pass your class. Poor princess doesn’t use her brain in school, too busy trying to stay awake. Always gives you his jacket, even if you don’t want to wear it, he’ll wrap it around you. Finds any excuse to carry you or pick you up. So affectionate. Kisses on the cheek, lips, forehead. Sometimes he will miss and kiss your eye but ugh it’s so fucking cute. Only has eyes for you. Tying your shoes, putting your socks on, literally just dressing you in general is a must. Literally will take you wherever you want, whenever. Drops everything when you call. Such a sucker with the nicknames for you.

Steve Rogers: Ugh another one. Think of him as a body guard who you get to kiss and sit on his lap. Always drops everything to make sure you’re okay. Cannot take his eyes off of you. So smooth with the reassurance. Kisses on the forehead constantly. Always tucks you in. Would help you bathe if you asked. Pulls you onto his lap every time you both sit down. Whatever you want, you’ll get. If he can’t do it, he’ll find a way. Cups your face in his hands when you cry, kisses your tears away. Ugh he’s your literal teddy bear, if you don’t like to be smothered? Pick another muse.

Bucky Barnes: Similar to Steve, he’s your shadow, but he’s a little more … upfront with it. He’s constantly wrapping an arm around you, eyeing anyone who’s eyeing you. He’s so gentle if you’re sensitive. Kissing your cheek is his favorite. Always lingering his fingertips around your crevices. Makes sure you’re never hungry. Always up before you are. Lets you sleep in. If you fight, he will never raise his voice at you. Ready to carry you if you’re too tired to keep walking around. Slow dances with you just because. He’s always worried for you, making sure you’re okay, you’re not sick or hungry. Pet names with him are a must.

Loki Laufeyson: Okkkk and in what situation did you ever think loki was not going to give you the princess treatment??? You are literal Princess Laufeyson. Though he, and Sebastian maybe, are the only ones who can probably, maybe, say no to you, if you pout enough maybe he’ll come to a compromise with you. He never wants to upset you though. Would literally wipe out a small world for you. Or a few. Ok even betray anyone for you. Always cleaning your smeared makeup, fixing your hair, wiping you because you spilled your drink. He’s so devoted to you, im going to throw up. He devours you with his eyes from a distance, you’re never leaving his sight.

Cloud Strife: Ugh ok. Literal bodyguard, as he’s hired to be at times. At your beck and call, though he’d never admit it. Such a sucker and can never say no to you. Though it may take time, he can start calling you ‘baby’ ‘sweet girl’ ‘love’ he’s so infatuated with you and doesn’t know how to handle it. Your safety is his priority. Always listens to you ramble on and on. Brings you flowers for no reason other than he was thinking of you. He’s such a sucker for you. Follows you everywhere.

Sebastian Michaelis: He’s probably the most tame out of everyone but that doesn’t mean he’s not a sucker. There are rules he’s willing to bend for you, literally willing to kill anyone that has the slightest interest in hurting you. Always makes sure you’re fed and if you want a sweet treat, he’s on it. Listens to you talk, even if it’s silly. Dances with you almost every night. He’s so graceful with it. Dressing you and feeding you is his favorite but he might throw in a few teases “poor sweet baby, you haven’t woken up yet to tell your left foot from your right” as you rub your eyes with the wrong shoes on. Of course he’s willing to help, even if he has the idea that you do this on purpose, he's more than happy to oblige.

Spencer Reid: Though his job wouldn’t encourage it, he still drops almost everything to answer you. Always finds a way to share time with his job and his attention to you. Reads to you all the time, whether in person or over the phone. He’s always making comparisons of you being the princess in most fictional stories that you both come across. He’s so gentle with you. Caresses your face all the time. You lay your head on his lap or sit on his lap as he reads away. Always making sure to keep up with your well-being before his own. Would 10000% pick up a habit of writing you little notes or picking flowers for you or taking Polaroids or something to remind you of your everlasting presence in his mind.

3K notes · View notes